


Hopeless Wanderer

by SuperWoman0124



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Rape, Blow Jobs, Dark fic, Dean is 16, FWU Kink Bingo, Film/Video, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OC, OC Rape, Prostitution, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam is 12, Underage Sex, Weecest, dark fic with a happy ending, forced anal sex, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:03:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWoman0124/pseuds/SuperWoman0124
Summary: Dean comes home hurt and Sam questions why. When Dean hands him a tape, Sam is forced to watch his big brother get raped.





	Hopeless Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> For FWU Ultra Sinner Kink Bingo.  
> Bingo Spaces Filled; Prostitution, Film/Video 
> 
> Spaces Left: Gangbang (Broken Crown; soon to come)
> 
> Trigger warning if you didn't read the tags; Heavy description of rape

Nebraska is fucked up. 

They've got more bars and motels in this podunk town than residents. 

 

There's garbage on the streets and litter through every empty parking lot that whirlwinds when a gust of wind blows through. It's also hot as balls. And their dad had to pick the one motel that declined the usefulness of having ac. It's not like Sam was gonna be there long enough for it to really matter anyway. 

 

Sam spreads his legs to air them out as he flips the tv channel, watching Pam Anderson run in slow motion across a hot sandy beach. It was too hot to jack off, but her big bouncing boobs were slowly convincing him otherwise. Dean stepped out to make some cash at the bar and Sam checked the locks and salt lines again before flopping back lazily on the couch. Sam palmed the half formed erection through his gym shorts, watching Pam bend and kneel. He slid his hand slowly under the waistband of his pants and carded his fingers through his growing pubes. He reached for himself and wrapped his fingers around the warm silk flesh. 

 

And he heard the motel door unlock. He ripped his hand out of his pants as fast as he could. Dean appeared, two brown paper grocery bags balanced on his knee and the key between his teeth. The sunglasses he sported were new, and he muttered something to himself as he crossed the threshold. 

 

"Hey." Dean walked quickly into the half kitchen, avoiding eye contact as Sam attempted to regain his composure. 

 

"H-Hey." Sam fumbled, the adrenaline of almost being caught coursing through his veins at high speeds. "You're home early." 

 

"No pool table at the bar." Dean spoke as he placed the boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard, the sunglasses still firmly on his face. 

 

"Dunno if you don't know this, but it's not cool to wear sunglasses at night anymore. That song went stale ages ago." Sam stood up, laughing at his brother's cocky behavior and reached the kitchen. He began to snoop into the unpacked bags spying the lucky charms and snagging them out of the bag. He began to open them before he realized that Dean hadn't responded; no witty remark, no sarcasm, he just stayed quiet. 

 

"You alright, Dean?" Sam set the box down and looked at his older brother, who was currently pushing the wrap-around glasses back up his nose. 

 

"Yeah, 'm fine, kid. Go watch tv or somethin'." Dean offered a light push to Sam's shoulder. 

 

"Just checking." Sam turned and returned to the couch. 

 

Dean passed by the couch, and Sam noticed that Dean was walking weirdly, a limp that he hadn't had when he left. Sam attempted to extend the olive branch again. 

 

"Dean, what's the matter?" Sam stood up and stopped Dean in his tracks, glaring at him. 

 

"It's nothing, man!" 

 

"Then take off the freakin' glasses, Dean." 

 

"I said **_I'm fine._ ** Back off, dude. Personal bubble." 

 

Sam inched forward as if getting closer would either intimidate Dean into telling the truth, or if It would enable him into seeing through the black lenses. 

 

"Take them off!" Each word was more enunciated as they spat out of Sam's mouth. 

 

"Fine!" 

 

Dean reached for his face with shaking fingers before reaching the brim, pulling them at an agonizingly slow pace down his nose. 

 

When Sam could see his left eye, he was shocked at the blue and purple eye socket staring back at him. Sam immediately raised his hand to it, covering the swollen, yellow cheek bone below. 

 

"What the fuck happened, Dean? Did you get into a fight or somethin’?" 

 

"Don't _cuss_ and it’s nothing." Dean shied away, shaking the warm touch away from his face, turning away from Sam to continue unpacking the groceries. “Some dude didn’t like losing at pool to a 16-year-old.” 

 

Sam turned quickly and smirked, knowing he’d caught his big brother in a lie. “Thought you said there was no pool table.” 

 

Dean stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. “fine, you wanna know what happened?” Dean slid a small camcorder tape out of his back pocket and slammed it down on the coffee table. “Watch that. You’ll see.” 

 

Dean stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him, collapsing onto the mattress. 

 

Sam picked up the tape between his fingers. It was an ordinary tape, black with a red stripe, nothing written on the label. He pulled out his camera, plugged in the aux cord to the VCR, put the tape in and hit play. 

 

The screen came to life, showing Dean sitting on a bar stool with a man with his back turned to the camera. The person taking the video appeared to be hiding behind a door jam, spying on them. Dean appeared to be talking to a taller man in a teal polo shirt and jeans. Dean swiveled his stool towards him. Dean placed his hand on his leg and slid it up towards his crotch, offering a coy wink. The older man took his hand and nodded his head. They got up from the bar and headed toward the camera and the older man came into view. He was good looking, buff tan arms and a muscled chest, slicked brunette hair, but twice Dean’s age. A real stereotypical college kid. Someone Dean saw as "easy money." 

 

The cameraman scrambled, backing up in what appeared to be a bathroom, piss yellow stalls and a urinal beside him. He stood in the corner of the room behind a door, peering through the crack until the door swung open. 

 

"In here?" Sam recognized Dean's gruff voice, making it even deeper to feel older. 

 

"Yeah, sure." The college kid winked at the camera as he swung around to face Dean. "I've been blown in worse places." 

 

Dean turned and locked the door, shining on his best coy smile. 

 

"80 bucks." Dean offered his hand out, rocking back and fourth on the back of his feet. 

 

"80 bucks? That's fuckin' steep." The guy ripped his wallet out of his back pocket and opened the trifold, pulling out his wad of cash. He rifled through the hundreds to get to the twenties, and slapped them into Dean's open palm. 

 

"Gotta pay extra cause I'm hot." Dean pocketed the cash and sunk to his knees. Dean immediately went to work, unfastening the belt and pulling it quickly through the loops, undoing the button and fly. Dean reached in to get a handful of the guy's semi-interested cock and pulled it out through the opening. Dean bounced the pink flesh of his tongue and hearing the sound of it's wet impact made Sam jump, realizing that his problem from earlier was returning. He ignored the twitching member and continued to watch with wonderment. 

 

Dean lurched forward, taking the length into his mouth. The guy above closed his eyes in a loud moan, whispering "fuuuckkk" that echoed off the bathroom tile walls. Dean bobbed on the end of the guy's dick, using his hand to reach the places he couldn't reach with his tongue. Dean looked up and continued his ministrations. He was watching his features closely. Dean began to reach up with his unoccupied hand to reach into the guy's back pocket. You could hear the camera man scoff and slightly chuckle. Dean fished for his wallet carefully, shaking hands as he closed his eyes and moaned around the member in his mouth. 

 

"How old did you say you were, again?" The guy opened his eyes and saw Dean trying to shove this dude's wallet into his own back pocket. "What the fuck, man?" The guy exploded, rearing his arm back and laid a blow to Dean's eye. Dean scrambled, falling to the floor before finding purchase on the tile floor. Dean stood up quickly, darting for the door. "No, no, no, no, no! You're not going anywhere!" He surged at Dean just as he reached for the lock and surrounded Dean as his cheek pressed into the cold metal frame. "Think I'm gonna let some little whore steal _**my** _ wallet?" 

 

The guy took both of Dean's hands and ripped them behind his back. Dean let out a grunt of pain as his limps became contorted. He wrapped his fingers around both of Dean's closed fists and began to pull Dean's jeans down. 

 

"Teach you a fuckin' lesson." The guy whispered, "Teach you to steal from me. Did you think you were gonna get away with it?" The look of panic in Dean's eyes receded. 

 

"Gotten away with it from smarter guys than you." Dean cocked back and headbutted the guy right in the nose. The guy let out a gasp of pain, cursing as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose on the sleeve of his shirt, but he did not relent his grasp on Dean's hands. Dean wiggled as he lowered his jeans and boxers, exposing him. The guy kicked Dean's legs back, using his unoccupied hand to stroke himself back to hardness. 

 

"I'll teach you, you little whore, that it's not okay to mess with Chad." 'Chad' surged forward, his firm member in his grasp and teased at Dean's opening. Dean was silent, except for a few silent sobs, and the sounds of him trying to struggle out of Chad's grasp. Dean grunted as the tip went in and yelled when Chad quickly bottomed out. Dean cried out when Chad dug his fingernails into Dean's hips and pumped into him furiously, quick humiliating insults sputtered through harsh breath every other thrust. 

 

Chad pulled out quickly and Dean let out a breath he appeared to be holding in. Chad threw him to the floor and kicked him in the ribs. Dean curled in on himself and Chad took advantage of his position. Chad recaptured Dean's arms and pulled them behind his back again, forcing Dean's cheek to the disgusting floor. Dean scoffed, choking on the bile rising in his throat. 

 

"Fuckin' little whore." Chad whispered through clenched teeth. Dean lay boneless beneath him, most likely blacking out or mindlessly escaping reality. 

 

Sam felt wrong. He should stop watching. It was wrong to see what had happened to Dean, but he had to know. Had to watch it 'til the end to see Dean kick this guy's ass. He hoped. 

 

The sounds of grunting caught Sam's attention and he numbly stared at the screen. Chad was pumping faster, his hips a blur on the screen as he thrust deeper. Dean began to make pained noises, sucking his breath in through clenched teeth. Dean began to protest, aborted "no's" leaving puffy lips as Chad began his furious pace. Chad emptied himself into Dean's bruised hole, letting out the most disgusting howl Sam had ever heard. It was over. Finally over. Or so, Sam had thought. 

 

Chad pulled out roughly and Dean collapsed on his side. Chad let his arms go and sneered above him, tucking himself back into his jeans. Dean coughed and held his ribs, refusing to cry in front of his foul rapist. 

 

"Did'ja learn your lesson, punk?" Chad toed Dean's ribs lightly, catching Dean's attention. Dean muttered something that earned him another kick, more centralized into his abdomen. 

 

"What was that?" 

 

"I said, yeah," Dean's breath was labored, "don't date douchebags from Princeton." 

 

Another kick that made Sam wince and look away as Dean turned, wheezing. 

 

"Think you've had enough." Chad turned toward the camera-man, and nodded the go-ahead. "Come'on, Frank." 

 

Frank the Camera-man came out of the stall and Dean's shocked look was captured, but he was in too much pain to really be bothered. 

 

"And leave the kid the tape." Chad turned to speak as he turned the lock, "wasn't that good of a lay anyway." 

 

The tape stopped and the tv turned blue. Sam sat for a moment. He didn't know what to say. What the hell would he say to Dean? 

 

Sam stood up and walked to the bedroom. He lightly wrapped on the door. 

 

"Dean?" 

 

"Go 'way, Sammy." The voice was muffled and he heard a sniff, assuming Dean had his face stuffed into the pillow. 

 

"Dean, I watched it. All of it. And hey, I know you're gonna go crazy when i suggest this, but maybe we should go to the cops? You know? Get those guys locked up?" The room was silent aside from a squeak on the mattress. "So they don't hurt anyone else?" 

 

The door opened in Sam's face and Dean appeared angry, his red lined eyes blown as he gulped in heaving breaths. "No, Sam. I'm not goin' to the cops!" Dean shoulder checked the 12-year-old on his way into the kitchen, shoving his face into the open refrigerator. "If I tell the cops what happened..." Dean stopped and stood up, wiping away a tear before Sam could see it. "I could be arrested." 

 

"What?" Sam backed off, sitting on the arm chair of the sofa and watched Dean pace. 

 

"I could be arrested. Hell, **_would be._** The guy mighta..." Dean stopped and he focused on something across the room, "done what he did, but I asked for it. Hell, he _paid_ for it." 

 

"You didn't _ask_ to get raped." Sam sputtered the word before he thought twice. Dean marched off to the bedroom and collapsed back onto the bed. Sam followed him, staring at the bed from the doorway. "Dean..." Sam sighed. 

 

"Leav'me alone, Sam." 

 

"Never." Sam spoke quietly, and entered the room. He rounded the bed and crawled into it. He turned away from Dean and scooched himself back into Dean's embrace. He slid Dean's hand around his chest and traced Dean's arm with his fingertips. 

 

"It'll be okay, De'" Sam said as he held Sam tight, finally letting his veil of strength slip with every broken sob the left his lips. "I'll make it okay." 

 

Two days later, Dean's eye looked much better, the purples and blues fading to yellows and browns. Dean had his legs kicked back as he flipped through the channels on tv. Sam came out of the shower and sat beside Dean. Dean paused on the news, watching the attractive anchorwoman with bright red lips pronounce the names of his rapists on tv. 

 

"These two men were found in a local grocery store bathroom beaten nearly to death with a baseball bat! Their car was obliterated, all the windows broken and the word "Rapists" keyed into the side of the car. While it's still pending an official investigation, the state police found a camcorder with the previous rapes of 3 other individuals, one of which was underage. While the police do not believe that it was one of these victims that beat these men, they will be taken into custody when they recover from their injuries. Katie Ford, signing off with M-TAU, channel 6." 

 

Dean flipped the TV off. 

 

"Know anything about this, Sammy?" Dean smirked, peering over to his baby brother's hidden smile. 

 

"No idea what you're talking about, De'." His smile grew wider as he spoke. 

 

Dean surged the couch, taking his younger brother in a tight hug, squeezing so tight Sam thought his eyeballs would pop out. Dean backed off when Sam complained of lack of oxygen and took his chin into his grasp. Dean excitedly pressed his lips into Sam's, who's eyes shot open quickly. Dean jerked back. 

 

"'M sorry, I'm such an idiot, it's just-" Dean's eyes shined with the light from the window and unshed tears. "Thank you." 

 

"It's okay." Sam pecked Dean quickly on the cheek, feeling his warm skin. "You're welcome." 

 

"Now that that's over with, don't do some stupid shit like that ever again." Dean rested his forehead against Sam's and ran his hand through his hair, taking a moment to breathe his brother in. 

 

"You mean the kiss, or-" Sam chuckled. 

 

"You know what I DAMN well mean, Sammy." Dean smiled and winced as the smile reached Dean's injured eye. "I'm supposed to take care of you, not the other way around." 

 

"I can't promise anything, Dean. I'll always take care of you." 

 

"Me too, Sammy." Dean backed off and returned to his seat on the couch. "Me too."


End file.
